I often use a simulation of how it feels to be dyslexic when I speak to new groups about what dyslexia is. After giving out the facts of dyslexia, a simulation is a good way to bring some depth of experience to the information.
Last week I was speaking to our fifth graders for Dyslexia Colors Day at our school. They know in a general way that there is such a thing as dyslexia, but I picked up that some of them were associating dyslexia with awkwardness rather than unique brain architecture requiring a different approach to language instruction. It seemed like time to tweak their misunderstanding. I shared with them the video clip I posted a blog or two ago, then ran the following simulation and finished up with my light-up brain hat.
The simulation I used with the fifth grade group is a simple one. I have two versions of the same short news story. One version is all in English. For the second version, I translated 10% of the words into Dutch. So far, no Dutch speakers have been audience members at my lectures where this simulation was used! The audience is unaware of the two versions, and they presume everyone’s half sheet of text is the same as theirs. My assistant was helping me by randomly passing out the two versions to the fifth graders. At one table, Tyler, a student who graduated out of our dyslexia program last year, was seated with several of his non-dyslexic buddies. Unbeknownst to me, my assistant saw and acted on the opportunity for a little reverse simulation. She gave Tyler the all-English version, while passing the 10% Dutch version to the other boys at that table.
As the simulation unfolds, I tell the group they have two minutes to silently read the article, and that it is important for them to get as many details as possible, since I will be asking comprehension questions about the article. I ceremoniously set a timer on my phone, and reading begins. I circulate the room, desk tapping and teacher nagging those who seem to be giving up due to the strangeness of the unfamiliar words. I remind the entire group multiple times about the time limit and the looming comprehension questions.
About a minute into the simulation, Tyler glanced up, having completed the article. He was a bit puzzled that the others at his table were struggling, so his head went back down as he concluded he must have missed something, so reread the story. By the time his reread was finished, his table mates were muttering and looking utterly bewildered by what they were trying to read.
I called time, and began with the comprehension questions, carefully chosen to be difficult for those with the Dutch words inserted. Tyler’s hand shot up to answer each question, to the chagrin of his confused buddies. His smile of success when he was able to correctly and easily answer the questions was a beautiful thing to see.
As the simulation drew to a close, I revealed to the students that there were two versions of the story. Groans of understanding filled the room from those who had waded through trying to apply English phonics to Dutch words and come up with any meaningful words. We talked about how a dyslexic person feels they are working more slowly and less efficiently than those around them. Students shared newly gained insights about how they felt when they toiled over an article that those around them breezed through. I could almost see light bulbs going off in their minds as it dawned on the non-dyslexic students that this is how their dyslexic classmates frequently feel.
Then Tyler’s hand flew into the air. “Mrs. Hall,” he chimed in, “Today I saw how it feels not NOT be dyslexic!” He beamed with pleasure of being the first one at his table to complete the assignment, and how it felt to do so with ease. His comment hit a nerve with the other boys at his table as it dawned on them how very hard Tyler worked every single day, every single assignment. Roles were reversed and I hope some lifelong understanding was built by experiencing for a few minutes how it feels to be dyslexic, and for Tyler, how it feels to not be dyslexic.